Mara's Hope
by dtechie84
Summary: Derrick was an average guy...well sort of. Until two strange women came into his life. Now nothing makes sense and where the hell is this Skyrim place anyway? Soon he learns that a lot more is at stake than just the answers he seeks. He meets a cast of unbeliveable characters and someone he thought he would never meet. Is this all just a dream? or did he really hit his head?
1. Chapter 1

**AN- **Hello all. So this is a small story that I have started. It's more of a little hobby story than anything serious. I have my AvP story that I am working on. It is my true love but I need something else to give my head a little variety. I don't want either of them to grow stale. So I hope you like this little Skyrim tale. There are some intersections with another Skyrim fic. that I have. I will hopefully bring that one back from the dead soon as well. This will most likely be a short one only a dozen chapters or so. Unless I find I like where it is going and you guys like it. Sorry for grammar. I do try to edit edit edit but sometimes I miss stuff.

**Usual disclaimer: I don't own any of the story line or characters created for the sole use of Bethesda and its software. I do not own any of anything that is copyrighted, patented or whatever other legal mumbo jumbo that is associated with doing stuff like this. Nor do I profit from any of the stories that I create or publish on fanfic. If I did I would definitely have a better benefits package then I have now**.

**Chapter One**…. **Merry Christmas**

The little brass bell that hung from the door rang yet one more time. Its little chime sounded like a tiny church bell. Derrick sighed and walked back towards the front of Mr. Paul's hardware store. The day before Christmas Eve and everyone in the city had decided that they needed something.

First it was wreath hangers and then nails to hang decoration and then the flood of people needing the disposable turkey roasting pans. His back ached from the constant bending over and lifting boxes. It had been everything he could do to keep the shelves stocked.

It didn't help that Mr. P had to leave to meet his wife at the hospital.

**_Fine time to go into labor Mrs. P._**

Finally four o'clock had come and he was beginning to start his closing chores…..that is until that damned bell rang.

"I'll be right there!" he called over the shelves.

Honestly he couldn't be angry; in truth he was ecstatic that Mr. Paul's baby son had come so close to Christmas it would be a wonderful holiday for them and they deserved it. They were good people.

The thought cheered him slightly as he made his way towards the front. Things may not be that great for him but it always made him happy to see good people have good things.

"Hi how can I help….." Derrick's question trailed off as he rounded an aisle corner.

The front of the store was as empty as he had left it.

"Well that's creepy" he mumbled.

He could have sworn that the bell had chimed and he was sure that he had heard someone shuffling around. Immediately derrick felt his stomach drop and he rushed to the register.

The machine sat as he had left it and when he opened the cash drawer all of the money appeared to be there.

"What the hell?"

The shaken man slowly walked along the rows of shelves to make sure no one was lurking in the back.

Finally he accepted that he was alone.

With a shrug he locked the door and went back to his last minute chores thinking the wind was to blame.

It was starting to snow again when Derrick was finally finished with his closing duties. He walked to the front of the store and turned off the lights. With one final check of the dark, silent aisles he turned to set the alarm and leave.

That's when he noticed the object hanging from the door knob. He could feel his heart skip a beat.

**What the hell is going on?**

He quickly opened the door and looked left and right down the darkening street. Only a few last minute shoppers walked the snow dusted sidewalks.

Derrick ducked back inside and slowly lifted the item off of the knob. It was a necklace or pendant of some sort; he leaned over to get better light on it.

He sighed softly at the beautiful work in his hands; the metal work was astounding. A large circle with an intricate cross hung below several smaller circles, in the center of the large cross nested a large perfectly spherical milky blue stone.

"Were did you come from little beauty?"

The jewelry seemed to sparkle in answer. Wherever it had come from Derrick knew that he would have to try and find the owner. It looked to be pure gold and extremely old. Someone would be missing it.

"I wish I could take you home with me lovely; but you don't belong with me." He whispered to the necklace.

Derrick looked up and realized that several people walking by were looking at the strange man standing in the doorway talking to himself.

Shaking himself he stuffed the necklace into his pocket and went about closing the store.

* * *

><p>The wind blew cold and biting as Derrick made his way through the streets. His frustration only grew with each minute he spent walking through the mess.<p>

"Three dollars and seventy five cents I won't get back!" he grumbled to himself.

After leaving the store he had caught the bus over to the local police precinct. His intention was to turn in the pendent and hopefully find its owner. After standing in the lobby for nearly an hour he finally was told that since he hadn't seen the owner and didn't know how long it had been on the door knob there wasn't much the police could do.

"Besides it just looks like a piece of cheap costume jewelry or crappy decoration. You are welcome to keep it if you want." The obviously bored officer had told him.

Now he would have to walk across the entire city of New York to get home. His jacket and gloves weren't doing any good against this kind of weather.

"I'll be lucky if I don't catch the flu!" he growled.

It was well after midnight when he finally could see the familiar buildings in the distance. The water treatment plant wasn't the most pleasant place to call home but it was dry and warm.

Derrick shuddered at the thought of some of the other places he had called "home". Being homeless was hard enough but being homeless in New York City was something else entirely. Nights on the streets were terrible in the summer and were downright deadly in the cold winter months. After almost six years of wondering he had discovered the little maintenance hatch in an older section of the water facility; it had taken some work to clean up and make it livable but he had managed.

No one knew him as homeless or living in poverty and he had worked hard to keep it that way.

Shortly after finding his "mansion" he managed to get his job at the hardware store. It didn't pay much but it was enough to keep him clothed and fed. He even managed to have enough to shower at one of the truck stops and ride the bus pretty regularly. Mr. Paul, the owner, would even let him have some of the returns and broken items to fix.

Looking at him no one would guess at his situation.

Climbing through the heavy, rusted hatch he made his way down the inky corridor. He had been there so long now he could walk the dark hall without banging his head on any of the pipes or cables. Around a corner sat his humble abode. A small cot with some thrift store quilts, a small camp stove and heater and along the wall was a rickety old shelf that held his few possessions.

His most prized were his small collection of books and a bundle of maps. Derrick had not always been in this situation….once upon a time he lived at an orphanage with many other children forgotten by most. There he had learned to read and write and even managed to get math and science studies in. From that early age had had loved to read and was even more enthralled by maps. Every time he had discovered a new one it was as if he could travel there and escape this world. He had collected several as time had gone on.

Then the day came when he was no longer a child and the nuns had to turn him away, to wonder the streets all of these years, until he found this place.

He sighed as he turned on the small space heater and fired up the stove to heat the take out he had picked up.

It wasn't much but at least he was warm and dry and fed. Lost in his thoughts he hadn't noticed the flame flicker and die on his propane stove.

"Ah damn it!"

He stood and made his way towards the back of the small room and through a door. The limited space meant that he had to store his supplies in another area down a long hallway. Halfway through the corridor he had to pass one of the concrete canals that the cleaned water left by.

He hated this part because during the winter the floor tended to ice up and become slippery. He made his way cautiously and crossed without any issue. Grabbing a few propane tanks he headed back to his supper, his mind wandering to one of the far off places in his maps and books.

The slick ice caught him by surprise on the return trip; he threw his hands out to catch himself. Only there was nothing but air to grab as he went airborne, the small gas tanks clanging and rolling into the dark.

His head slammed, with a sickening crunch, into the floor before the rest of him tumbled behind. At first he just laid in the dark gasping for air and trying to sense if he was badly hurt then as if on a tide the nausea crept in. Shortly before the darkness took him he knew he was going to die in this cold dark place and in a puddle of his own puke to add to the horror!

As his vision tunneled into itself he swore that someone stood over him….It was a woman….flowing robes and a hooded face…and she smiled so beautifully at him.

Then there was nothing…nothing but the voices in his mind.

**Odd….I don't remember women being here.**

* * *

><p><em>"Well that was most unfortunate." <em>

_"I had hoped for a less….dramatic means I assure you."_

_"Well I do hope you didn't kill him. That would be such a waste….he is very pretty."_

_"Dibella I would greatly appreciate you not groping him like that….oh don't pout like that! He belongs to someone else."_

_"And who might that lucky girl be."_

_"errr... well to be honest…..I'm not sure."_

_"What!"_

_"Well what I mean is I haven't chosen a match….I was hoping that it will happen more…naturally."_

_"This is a terrible gamble sister. We risk much in tampering like this."_

_"I know! But we must interfere or we could lose all."_

_"You had better be right Mara."_

* * *

><p><strong>AN: <strong>Okay…well for some reason this chapter just sort of rambled. No matter how I worked it. I'm usually much better at environment and character development. This…this just WAS NOT cooperating with me. I promise that I'll do better. Also two things.

1. I am by no means an Elder Scrolls expert. I do play the games and am very much a long time fan. However my lore and such are not complete. I do research extensively before I publish; but just in case I do apologize for any inconsistencies.

2. This story is not a part of the main storyline BUT will weave in and out of the places and events. It will also tangle up with my other Skyrim story (when I can finally get it edited and posted).

I promise that I will not have long notes after this. So please read on and I hope you will rant, rave review.


	2. Chapter 2

**AN: **I try to move quickly with the first chapters to get the story flowing after that…well then life tends to slow me down.

Enjoy!

**Chapter 2****…. A Cold Day for Man**

Holy hell it was cold!

That was the first thought that made its way through his foggy mind. It was cold and he was soaking wet. Derrick groaned and tried to sink back into the comfort of sleep. His stomach however had other plans.

His eyes opened wide and he rolled over to throw up. The movement made his head swim and he slowly began to remember what had happened.

**I slipped and fell….then what?**

After a few more dry heaves he was finally able to sit up. Everything ached and he wasn't sure how stable he would remain. He could remember needing the propane for his stove, he remembered actually getting said propane but after that his memory grew hazy.

Had he slipped and fallen?

Gingerly he brought his hand to the back of his and found the large bump; his hair was matted with dried muck and crusty blood. He was lucky to be alive apparently.

Finally he felt strong enough to stand and carefully picked himself up. Leaning against a tree he took his first unsteady step.

Wait!...A tree!

He looked around for the first time and found himself facing…..trees, lots and lots of trees!

"Were the fuck?"

He slowly turned himself in a circle and tried to process what he was looking at. He stood in a small glen surrounded by a semi circle of boulders, to his left a stream sluggishly babbled. The soft flutter of snow falling added to the odd yet pristine picture.

"What the hell happened?" he muttered aloud.

Had he fallen into the water conduit and floated out of the city? He wasn't familiar with the waterway and had no way of knowing how far it snaked through the city or for the state for that matter. He remembered that New York had several areas of thick wilderness. But how did he end up in the middle of one.

"How am I even still alive?"

By all rights he should not be breathing much less standing and looking at huge snow covered pines and redwoods. Derrick looked down at himself and was surprised to find himself clothed in his old coat and pants. He even had his gloves and boots on, which he noticed was doing very little against the chill.

**First things first. I need to get warm and then figure where the hell I am.**

For several moments he gathered limbs and pine needles and assembled a small pile in the crook of the glen. The small bit of work left him winded and shaking.

"Now how do I get you lit?" he sighed and looked up toward s the sky in frustration.

What he wouldn't give for a zippo right now. For a brief moment he watched the limbs sway in the dusky sky. How long had he been out and what time was it. It appeared that night was falling again; he would need to move quickly or risk freezing to death.

* * *

><p><em>"Are you certain of this?" The hooded woman asked.<em>

_Her companion watched the little man for several moments. Finally she shook her shrouded head and shrugged._

_"I am not certain of anything Dibella. Not anymore."_

_The darkly clad woman glanced at her normally stoic and positive friend. She had never known Mara to doubt. The times were changing of course but the mortal creatures had always maintained the balance of things. But now in this age something had happened; civil war and hate griped all of the land, dragons had returned and were killing unchecked. Rumors that a new Dovahkiin had risen and had defeated the world eater raged. Yet there seemed to be no change, no peace. _

_Only more hatred and anger._

_The divines had never directly intervened like this, it was not their place to try and guide the mortals in their ways. But Mara had come to her with an outrageous plan and she found herself enthralled by the idea._

_"If we can plant just one seed, coax one of them even if he isn't from this world…..maybe just maybe this will work."_

_"No this IS his world. He belongs here I can feel that. This will be his home now."_

_Dibella looked from her friend to the man. He was rummaging through the snow and cursing loudly. His colorful language caused her to giggle._

_"Well this might work if he lives through the night that is."_

_Mara's laughter floated through the air life a feather._

_"I asked Kynareth for a small favor." She nodded towards a rise overlooking the glen that the mortal cursed from. Lying beneath a large pine's boughs were two white shapes._

_"Saber cats?" Dibella raised a brow._

_"They will watch over him for a time." Mara answered._

_In the glen the mortal whooped in triumph. He had managed to coax a small flame into life by rubbing a branch into another. _

_"Oh I hope this works." Mara grumbled before turning to leave. _

_"If not maybe I can have him?"_

_The two figures vanished into the snowy fog._

* * *

><p>"Ha Ha! Got you bastard!" Derrick laughed.<p>

His luck seemed to be holding, after searching for some way to start a fire he remembered reading about a friction starter. Taking a flat piece of bark and a long sturdy stick you spun the stick on the bark. The friction, if maintained, would eventually cause an ember to form. The last part was the hardest; you had to transfer the ember to a bundle of flammable material.

Finally the ember caught and he had a small fire crackling. He leaned back on his hands and soaked in the flame's heat.

**Not bad for someone who only read about it.**

"And just in time." He grinned up at the darkening sky.

The hard work had warmed him but now he could feel the temperature dropping. Tomorrow he would try and figure out where the hell he was. He figured if he followed the creek it would lead him somewhere.

At least he had read that somewhere.

Something about towns and cities building near water. At least it was a plan; otherwise he had nothing.

He shrugged at nothing in particular and huddled closer to the fire.

**It's going to be a long night.**

"You've been through worse"

* * *

><p>Cold…so cold…and wet…. Voices.<p>

Derrick started awake, looking around in a near panic.

The fire had burned down to a bed of glowing embers and his clothing had been soaked from snowfall. But that wasn't what had him nervous; he had heard voices he thought. Somewhere of in the dark he had heard what sounded like men, and they were laughing.

A small well of hope sprang up in his chest. Maybe; just maybe he was saved. They were probably campers or hikers…maybe hunters.

"Well let's find out. Get off your ass and move." He growled to himself.

Shivering with the cold and excitement the lost man scrambled up the steep boulders. From the top he got a much better view of the forest, the tall pines and firs stretched as far as he could see. A slow lazy snow fell and a thick mist made the terrain ghost and grey. The light of the distant fire seemed to grow and amplify in the damp night air.

There! Just through the trees he could make out the glow of a fire. A camp of some sort; with his target in sight he slid down the rock on his rear and landed in knee deep snow.

"Fuckin' son of….damn it all." He spluttered through the cold shock that ran all the way to his crotch.

"I hope the damn thing doesn't fall off in this." He grumbled.

For nearly thirty minutes he slogged through the snow. At first glance the pleasant fluffy white stuff he had seen in cards and those cheesy calendars seemed benign. But once he started towards his hopeful rescue he grew a new hatred for the deep and frigid hell spawn. The layer of white agony hid all sorts of things, like sticks and brambles and anything else he could think of that would trip a person. He was sure at least once he had stepped on an animal.

Not even a hundred yards from safety and he was sure he would never get there.

Later in his life when he looked back to that night he realized that deep cold shit probably saved his life. As he trudged closer his better sense began to nag at him.

**What if they are drug dealers? Or murderers?...Or hippies!**

His face screwed up at the thought of pot and patchouli incense smoke floating everywhere.

**I'd rather have the murderer.**

He slowed his pace and began to pick his path more carefully. Staying as stealthy as he could manage, he slowly made his way towards the fire.

He didn't like this one bit. It didn't make sense.

His attempt at being a ninja had paid off, even though it took him almost an hour, and kept him unnoticed from the camps occupants. Now he lay in the snow under some thick juniper and watched them.

There were five men and a woman sitting around a large fire. Surrounding them were several crude tents. Perhaps they were a group of homeless; he had heard of these small gatherings of people who had nowhere else to go. They were all dressed in dirty and torn clothes. Some of the men weren't even wearing shirts; just what looked like furry leggings.

Something about them made Derrick nervous…they just felt off. From his hiding spot he could hear them talking, laughing and judging by the bottle they passed around; drinking.

"Quit hogging the bottle Sveica!" one of them barked.

"Kiss my ass Larch!" the woman yelled. "You lot had the other two already."

"Well if you wasn't such a shitty hunter; you could have been back by now."

Derrick noticed hunks of some sort of wild game on the fire pit and his stomach began to growl. He hadn't eaten in…well at this point he wasn't sure when that was.

"Hey! Fuck you!...I didn't see any of you out in this shit trying to get some grub." The woman replied with venom in her voice.

"Someone had to watch the new merchandise." A shorter man replied curtly.

The woman named Sveica, or how ever you said it, snorted.

"Oh big bad men…huddled around the strong scary; half starved slaves. Pfft they even have their hands and feet tied." The woman waved her hand at the group and took another large pull form the bottle.

Derrick stiffened at the conversations turn.

**Slaves?...What the hell have I stumbled into?**

He half expected the group to pull out banjos and start strumming a tune whilst yelling "Squeal like a piggy!"

Thankfully none of that happened.

As a matter of fact not much of anything happened for hours. Derrick stayed in his hidey hole and the group kept drinking until, one by one, they shuffled off to their tents. All save one were snoring loudly in short order. Derrick, fearing discovery, stayed under his bush for several more hours.

When he was sure that the lone guard was not paying attention he crept back to his little camp. He would wait until morning and get as far away from these freaks as he could. But as he made his way back to the little cubby of stone his mind would not settle.

**Slaves? Are there people being held against their will back there?**

Maybe he could find a park ranger or game warden. There had to be somebody that could help. But the more he kept thinking the more his conscience bugged him. He had to do something now; those people may not last another day.

He would wait until early morning; then maybe he could catch the hung over goons by surprise. Maybe they would just be passed out.

As he settled into another night huddled next to the fire; his mind just kept going over scenario after scenario. What could they be doing to those people? What would they do to him?

After hours of obsessing over it all he slid into a fitful sleep.

* * *

><p>The dawn came cold and grey; Derrick woke from his dozing to more snow and the ever present mist. He could imagine himself going nuts in this crap. To be in such a wide open area and yet still feel like you're in a two by two cell was suffocating. How anyone could be out in this was depressing at best; downright nerve wracking at its worst.<p>

He suddenly remembered the group of unsavory people from the night before.

**Should I go back? Maybe those people need help. **

The whole idea of getting in an altercation with, as far as he could tell insane, people out in the middle of nowhere didn't give him much hope for the morning. Finally he made up his mind to return and see if anyone needed his help.

With the pale grey light of the day he found the camp much easier than the night before. He took great pains in making sure he was quite and snuck around to a cluster of boulders. From his vantage point he could see the entire camp better; just as the in habitants began to stir.

The woman was the first to drag herself from her tent. She was tall and built like a tank! Her blonde hair went everywhere except for a single braid down the right side of her face, which would have been attractive had she not been missing and eye and had several ropey messy scars across the bridge of her nose and down her cheek.

A shorter ruddy looking fellow was the next to drag his self from a tent.

"Ughh seeing your ugly ass first thing in the morning isn't my idea of a great start." He grumbled lighly.

The woman snorted and threw a handful of snow at the offending man.

"Then why are you always trying to get into my pants; if you find my ass so ugly?" she barked, a knowing grin on her face.

"Well the pickins are slim!" he replied.

"Will you two shut up!" a rough and bleary voice from one of the tents interrupted.

Several snickers from around the camp echoed into the mist.

Over the course of the morning the group slowly began to move, they prepared a meal and sat huddled around the fire. Derrick listened closely to the lighthearted conversation; hoping to hear anything about the previous night.

For a while he began to think maybe he had misheard and almost decided to make himself known. Just as he was about to get up and walk into the camp the shorter fellow piped up.

"Alright we need to go meet up with the commander of the camp. One of us stays here; the rest with me…..I don't trust these assholes. I'll negotiate a price for the goods and then we'll come get them."

"How far of a hike is it?" one the men asked.

"It's northeast of Morthal. It'll take us a few days."

"Why don't we move a little closer then?" the woman remarked.

"Cuz I don't want them showing up in the night and cutting our throats Sveica!" he barked.

From his hiding place the group's unseen watcher scanned the camp. There were several covered wagons and horses. The sleeping tents and then a large crudely made tent. For a brief moment he could see the frightened eyes of someone peering through the flaps.

Derrick dropped back into his hiding place; his breath coming in great gouts of steam. Something was certainly wrong with this group; there were people in that shelter and they obviously couldn't come out.

He went over the conversation in his head; they would be separating soon. Maybe he could help them then. He doubted he could find help anywhere near him. Especially since he didn't know where the hell he was!

**Night fall…I'll wait until night and sneak in while it's dark. Maybe the guard they leave behind will drink some more.**

Derrick slipped down into the cluster of rock and waited. After several hours he heard the group ready to disembark. The chosen guard, one of the larger males, complained that he was being left out of the action.

Derrick peered over the rock to get a look at his new opponent. The man named Larch would be the guard. He was huge!... All muscle and bad temper.

**Please let him get drunk tonight!**

* * *

><p>Night had come finally; the darkness slowly covered the forest in a cold and inky blanket. There was no moon again this night and the heavy fog rolled into hide any movement.<p>

Larch sat near the low fire grumbling about being left behind again. He seemed to always be left out of the action nowadays. Just because of one incident where he lost his temper.

"You beat the shit out of one merchant and everyone acts like you have the plague." He remarked to no one in particular.

One positive note to being left alone was that he had inherited the stash of whiskey. If he was stuck here; at least he would have a drink or two.

The man glanced at the large tent housing the merchandise and smirked.

"Maybe have a little fun tonight eh?"

* * *

><p>Derrick watched from his old spot under the juniper. The deep snow allowed him to burrow in and all but vanish. It was freezing but it meant he would not be spotted. To help there was no moon and the fog was thick as soup. Now he watched and waited as the brute ate his dinner and then popped the cork on a bottle. It was as he had hoped and waited for the bastard to fall asleep.<p>

Then things fell apart. After nearly a whole bottle the man named Larch started to swear and waver on the stump. He was still sore about being left behind and made sure the darkened tress knew about it. Then suddenly he looked towards the large tent. After some sort of debate in his head he lurched up and towards the shelter.

Derrick held his breath when the man disappeared into the canvas walls. After a moment he could here scuffling and then a startled yell. A particularly female yell…..it was as he had feared; there were people in there and they were not here on vacation.

"Dammit." He swore and tensed when he saw the flap open.

The man finally emerged from the tent with a figure in tow. He pushed the stranger to the ground and delivered a series of vicious kicks. The helpless woman yelled and squirmed; trying to protect herself from his heavy boots.

* * *

><p>"Not what I had in mind….but you'll have to do!" Larch growled cruelly. He reached down and grabbed a handful of hair. It had been a braid at some point but now it was a filthy nest of knots and snarls. He wasn't worried about too much resistance from this bitch. The group of prisoners where fed and given water; but just enough to stay alive. His boss didn't want them to have any fight in them when they were presented to clients.<p>

"Let me go you fucking asshole!" the creature in his grip growled.

Larch flinched at the rough voice. Had he been sober he would have never thought of laying with the likes of this. But the other choices were even worse.

"Shutup ya' cunt fore I break your jaw!" he roared while delivering a series of backhands to her head and face.

"Just keep quiet and I'll be done soon enough."

He dragged her to the outskirts of the camp where the dark could hide her face from him better. After a moment he found a nice flat rock and threw her over it. The bitch kicked at him and tried to rear up. He threw his body weight against her and pinned her face down on the stone.

"Keep fighting girl…I like a little spirit in my lay. Gives me a reason to smack you around a bit." He chuckled and reached between them to snatch at her pants.

The thin flimsy wool tore easily and suddenly he could feel her warm rear against his stomach. The touch of flesh drove the drunken man over the edge and he began to wrestle with his own coverings. The whole while she squirmed and snarled at him; trying to kick and bite.

"Yeah fight me. Please fight and scream. I like that." He rasped in her ear.

Finally he managed to tear his erection free from the fur leggings and he sighed at the release. Going so far as to rub himself against her; knowing she would fight even more.

This was going to be fun….and it would have been had it not been for the searing pain that suddenly bloomed from between his eyes. He stumbled back and reached around to feel blood running from a gash in head. He turned to find a shadowy figure standing backlit by his own fire.

"You son of a whore!" he roared in rage and charged his attacker.

* * *

><p>Derrick yelped and fell back when the man charged him. How as he still standing? He had decided to follow the two when they disappeared from the camp. He could hear them struggling in the dark somewhere.<p>

When he heard the sound of fabric tearing he rummaged in the dark to find anything to use as a weapon. He knew what was happening and it sent the normally placid man into a rage. He had heard of and read about rapes in the city. He could never understand how someone would want to violate another human like that.

Finally his numb fingers found something, a large stone. Derrick plowed through the snow with a reckless abandon; desperate to find them before it was too late.

Suddenly he came upon them….the woman was pinned to her stomach on a slab of granite and the Larch man was tearing at his pants.

His mind clouded with anger Derrick swung the rock with all of his strength. The impact jarred his fingers. He had expected something more than a dull thump and then the giant of a man stood up!

**Why didn't he go down?**

Then things got really out of hand when the brute cursed and charged at him. Derrick yelped and fell back on his ass in the snow; scrambling on his rear he tried to crab walk away. The Larch man stumbling after him before finally tumbling into the snow himself…..in his drunken rage he had neglected to remember his pants, still wrapped around his ankles.

Derrick wasted no time and sprang forward. Once, twice, three times he swung the heavy stone. each one bouncing off of the helpless man's head. Finally after he had lost count of his swings and the man lay silent in the melted slush Derrick finally regained control or himself. In the faint light of the fire he could barely make out what used to be the man's head. The snow around them stained dark as blood pooled around them.

Just as quickly as it began it was over. With a dreadful finality Derrick realized what he had done. Turning quickly he heaved his stomach's contents over and over, his breath hitching with each spasm.

He had killed a man!

After a few moments he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and looked around. The woman sat against the rock were she had been left. In the dark he could only make out her bright watery eyes.

"Are you…are you okay?" he rasped.

The woman only stared.

"We need to go….we need to get the others and get out of here." He whispered as he crawled towards her.

The woman stiffened as he drew near and tried to sink into the rock. Derrick stopped short of her and raised his hands….they were soaked with blood. Looking around he grabbed a few handfuls of snow to clean them off.

"Look….see…I'm not going to hurt you….I swear. But we can't stay here….we….we need to get the others and get the hell out here." He pleaded with her.

Her dark form never moved.

"Okay, okay its fine. I'll go get them and then we'll get out of here."

Derrick stood and backed away slowly; he half expected her to bolt at her fist chance. But she just sat and watched him leave.

She was obviously traumatized; which Derrick could understand.

He made his way back to the camp and rushed to the fire. Kicking snow onto the ember doused the land in complete darkness.

"Well that was fucking stupid." He hissed to himself.

He fumbled in the dark until his hands found the canvas of the large tent. Quickly he found the door and flipped open; to be greeted by startled gasps and squeaks.

"Easy guys! I'm not here to hurt you. I'm here to help….but we have to go now."

"Who are you stranger?" a raspy voice asked from the dark.

"I guess I'm your best friend right now….Look we can have a coffee later and discuss world politics. Right now we have to leave. I have no idea of when the others will return."

His numb hands fumbled in the dark to find the prisoners and one by one he managed to get the simple rope binds loose. The group rushed out into the night and he led them to where he had left the other woman. He sighed with relief when he heard her moving in the dark.

"I'm glad you're still here." He told her as kindly as his shaking voice would allow.

"Where the fuck was I going to go?" she retorted gruffly.

**Well she's a charmer!**

"I guess you're right." he replied, not wanting to argue.

"Now what do we do?" one of the other asked.

"I have a small camp off that way."Derrick motioned towards his hiding spot.

"Because we can see in the dark we all know exactly what you are showing us…..fucking idiot!"

Derrick sighed and looked towards the woman that insisted on being as rude as possible.

"I'm sorry okay. This wasn't planned….to be honest I have no idea what we will do."

"Well that's great! You should have just left us then. That way we could have at least survived!" came another fiery response.

**What is her problem!?**

"Just follow me please." Derrick was losing his patience with the woman.

With hands on each other's shoulders the group stumbled and cursed their way towards, he hoped, were Derrick had been camping; finally they slipped into the cover of the rocky outcropping.

They huddled together against the stone, fearing a fire would give them away, and waited for daybreak.

Derrick sat with his back to them; a large branch in his hands. He knew he couldn't do much with it but he would be damned if he didn't at least try and protect them.

The sun couldn't come fast enough.


	3. Chapter 3

**AN: **Here we go with chapter 3. I spent a big chunk of time doing some edit work on "Dark Waters" last night so I didn't get started on this chapter as soon as I wanted. Anyway here we are. Derrick is about to get a big surprise and how will he come to terms with his actions from the night before. I hope you enjoy.

**Chapter 3 … A Strange Day Indeed  
><strong>

Derrick stirred to wakefulness slowly. He was warm and comfortable; but he had the strangest dreams. Thankfully he could wallow today since the store would be closed for Christmas. He snuggled deeper into his blankest. He couldn't even bring himself to open his eyes yet; last night's dream had been so vivid he could still feel the snow on his head, still smell the pines on the air. Even his hands ached from the fight he had with that strange man.

Slowly he opened his eyes and stared up at the grey morning. The trees waved slowly in the brisk winter wind. As the realness of it all sank in his eyes widened, a feeling of panic rolled in his stomach.

**Damn it! It wasn't a dream…**

Somewhere past his feet he could hear voices….woman's voices.

"I think we are somewhere in The Pale." A rough voice commented.

"Judging by the weather and the terrain I would have to agree with you." This one had a rich accent, familiar but one he could place.

The sound of snow crunching announced a new comer.

"This one has found all that she could find of use." Though female, this new voice had a thick and exotic accent. He could barley understand her at times.

"What should we do about him?" the rough voice asked.

The group remained silent for a few moments before the familiar voice responded.

"We stick with him I guess. Maybe get to Whiterun…we can't just leave him behind…..not after what he did for us."

Derrick sighed quietly, at least he wouldn't have to worry about them trying to blow him off…or kill him.

He realized that was a viable option for them; to kill him to hide all of this. He didn't know what he had stumbled into. For all he knew they were some sort of criminal organization and he had let himself get tangled in some turf war. The fact remained that he might not live to see another day now.

"He has woken. For some time now….perhaps we can ask this one who he is yes?" the thrumming accented women stated.

Derrick just lay with his eyes to the sky above. After a minute or two a fair haired, sun darkened face appeared over him. She was middle aged and broad, her dirty blonde hair pulled into a tight pony tail.

"Good morning sunshine!" she drawled with a gentle smile.

Derrick managed to smile and nodded to her.

"Not a talker is he?"

The next face that appeared above him nearly made Derrick yell out. She was black! Not like African American black but ink black, almost purple and her eyes; her eyes were almond shaped and red. He had never seen such a vivid red before. Her ears were long and pointed towards the sky above them.

"I like a man who doesn't waste words." The creature stated with a throaty chuckle.

The "normal" woman laughed and shook her head.

"You want something to eat? I think we even have some tea left." She asked over her own laughter.

Derrick lay still as a statue, his eyes growing wider as the two women talked over him.

A heavy purring erupted as yet another figure appeared over him.

"This one has such lovely eyes. They are like the uncut emeralds pulled from the mountains." The "woman's" ears perked forward and a tail swished over her shoulders. Her toothy smile showed needle sharp looking canines.

Derrick lost it.

The terrified man yelled and thrashed around, struggling to get free of his blankets. Freeing himself he scrambled on his rear until his back collided with one of the large boulders surrounding their camp. The women watched bewildered at his reaction.

"Who…Who are you?...WHAT are you?" he choked; pressing himself as close to the rocks as he could.

The dark skinned creature looked to her companions and shrugged. "I think he might be in shock? Or maybe he is hurt…."

She left the comment hanging as she turned to look back at a very distraught Derrick.

The normal human looking woman stepped forward slowly with her hands raised, palms out towards him.

"You are okay lad. Nobody here will harm you." She cooed as if he were a frightened child.

Derrick's eyes flicked from each of their faces and he just shook his head.

"It's a dream. Or…or this is one of those festival things right? You know where people dress up like different creatures; you know…..what do they call them? Comic something." He blurted.

The cat lady chuckled.

"This one is amusing. Have you not seen one of my kind before today?" her voice held a gentle purr.

Derrick stared at the thing in front of him and shook his head.

Moving gracefully she shifted from her squatting position to crawl slowly towards him.

Derrick crushed himself further into the cold stone.

"Easy lass. Your scaring him even more." The human female warned.

"I will not harm. Kaahira will show you. This one can touch Kaahira; that will show him the truth. Yes?" she said calmly.

She shifted back into a squat in front of Derrick and waited with a gentle nod.

Derrick rallied himself squeezed his eyes shut and slowly reached out; waiting for the creature to lash out and maul him or perhaps he would wake up.

His trembling fingers inched closer and in one quick move the female moved her head into his palm. Her fur was warm and soft across the crown of her head. Derrick opened his eyes and stared into her golden ones. She purred softly at his touch and rubbed her nose into his palm.

"See…you have nothing to fear from Kaahira." She said.

Derrick simply stared and before he could catch himself he reached out and tugged the creature's tail.

She squeaked at him and jumped back her eyes wide.

The tail hadn't budged at all….it was attached and swished from side to side; very much alive.

"This one must be careful yes…..unless this one wishes to mate Kaahira." She purred loudly and smiled.

It took him a moment to understand what the creature was hinting at. Derrick could feel his face heat up with embarrassment at the understanding.

"I'm so.. ." he stuttered.

The human threw her head back and laughed; the rich, heavy sound strangely comforted him.

"Khajiit like a little tug on the tail lad, divines look at his face….poor thing…I bet you have never had one so wild have you ?...or furry?." her eyes were tearing with mirth.

The group of women laughed loudly and moved to sit in front of the blushing male.

After they had settled from their joke the group fell into an uneasy silence.

"This is real?" Derrick breathed.

"As real as it can get." The dark skinned creature remarked.

"Where am I? What is this place?" Derrick's eyes grew wide. "Am I dead?"

The fear returned to his voice and he began to panic again.

"No son you aren't dead. You are as much alive as the rest of us." The woman responded.

The group sat in silence for several moments; until Derrick finally blurted.

"Where am I?"

The dark one leaned forward and stared intently at him.

"As far as we can tell; somewhere in The Pale. Along its western border….I think."

The name sounded terribly ominous. "That doesn't sound familiar. Is it one of the forest parks?"

The group looked at him with confused expressions.

"What is your name Nord? Where are you from?" the dark skinned woman asked.

"Derrick; Derrick Miller….I'm from New York City…and what is…I'm not a Nord." He stammered.

The woman looked at each other again. They were looking more confused by the minute.

"Derrick…Miller? I can understand Derrick; that's a pretty solid Nord name. But Miller? Are you named for your father's profession perhaps?" the other woman nodded at this obvious answer.

"No. I don't know what my father does or did. He left when I was still a baby. My mother…my mother killed herself when I was two. I lived in an orphanage run by the Catholic Church until I was an adult." He traced his fingers through the snow as he explained his more than unpleasant childhood. When he finally could bring himself to look up; the small group gave him sad and pitiful looks.

"I lost my mum and da' when I was but a little girl myself." The dark skinned woman remarked. The others nodded sadly.

"My father gave his life to this blasted war. Serving the Jarl of Solitude….My mom is still there; I think." The human trailed off at her uncertainty.

"Kaahira does not know of her parents. She has not seen them since she left the warm sands of her birth." The cat creature added.

Derrick thought how odd it was that she kept referring to herself in the third person and also at the names and places they continued to use where odder still.

"What is this place….where am I truly?" he asked almost more to himself than the group.

"You my boy are in the province of Skyrim; of which there are nine holds. We are in one of those holds. Do you truly not know where you are Derrick?"

Derrick shook his head and sighed in frustration.

"I remember settling in for Christmas Eve. I was warming up my dinner and needed more fuel for my stove." Derrick closed his eyes to capture the foggy moments in his memory. "I remember there was ice on the ground…..I slipped…..banged my head pretty hard. Then I woke up here." He opened his eyes to find them all staring.

"What?"

The dark skinned women glanced around at the others and licked her lips nervously.

"You say you hit your head? Perhaps that is why you don't remember your race and home?"

Derrick quickly stood and paced around the small glen.

"No I remember who I am and where I come from." He stopped short and looked back at them.

"And I can tell you that I am not from this place. I come from a place called earth; from a country named the United States and my city was called New York." He threw his hands up in frustration.

"I have no fucking clue what or where this place is or what you all are. What is a Nord and what are you and you?" he pointed to the cat and the dark skinned one." I mean….who the hell are you people?"

"Calm yourself; you are right we have not introduced ourselves." The woman answered. "My name is Metere. I am a Nord from the city of Solitude. My father was a soldier there and my mother is a wine merchant."

She nodded towards dark one.

"My name is Vaveero. I lived in Markarth as…..well I was a professional entertainer of sorts." Her cheeks darkened "I am a Dunmer or as you lot like to say; I am a dark elf." She nodded to the others one the last.

"This one is Kaahira. She is Khajiit. I hail from the distant sands of Elsweyr. I have travelled through the many lands of Tamriel as a merchant. Though now I do not know of the caravan's place or if they still live." Her ears and tail drooped low at the mention of her caravan.

Derrick eyed each of them as they spoke.

**An elf! A cat creature! What the hell have I found myself in?**

"And what was all of that back there? Last night?"

The one named Kaahira flattened her ears and spit.

"Slavers. They were collecting a group to sell. And from what I overheard the day before yesterday; they planned to sell us to stormcloaks." The dunmer explained looking at the one named Metere.

"Bah! Stormcloaks! True Nords indeed! Cowards led by a coward I say. A real nord wouldn't seek their freedom by enslaving and persecuting those that lived among them! I agree that the Thalmor are a pushy lot who have no right in doing what they are doing. But we will never be a free people if we spend all of our time killing each other." Metere caught herself in her rant and shook her head "I am sorry I get a little heated at the state of things."

Derrick paced a little more trying to digest the information. He was apparently in a completely different world than his own. Which meant either he was in a coma or still laying unconscious. Whichever he was having one hell of a dream….or somehow….just maybe he had truly come to another world; which was so ridiculous that it could very well be true.

"So if this is real; then you really are here and so am I. Which means you were really prisoners. Which means….." Derrick's eyes widened and his face paled.

"I really did kill that man."

The dunmer snorted. "More like obliterated him. I saw that mess you left him in. He must have really pissed you off lad."

Derrick groaned and doubled over; he was going to be sick! Since his stomach had nothing left to give; he dry heaved. A hand slowly rubbed circles on his back.

"Easy Derrick. Easy. I take it that was your first then?" Metere whispered.

He could only manage to nod the affirmative.

"He…he was trying to rape one of you. I just snapped. The only thing I could see was red." He choked out.

Vaveero sighed and leaned back on her hands.

"That would be the other one. She is still out looking for game. Grumpy one that women. Still don't know her name. You did right boy. He would have had his pick of any of us for at least three days. Larch was his name and he was a nasty piece of work. When they first caught me I saw him beat a Breton merchant to death."

Derrick's sobs began to subside. It was true; he had done what he had to. That man would have just as easily killed him to and cared two shits about it.

"Wait you said there was another…..that's right there were four of you." He straightened and nodded his thanks to the nord's comfort.

He looked around the camp for the first time since his panic had set in. They had apparently returned to the camp and gathered whatever they thought was useful. They had dressed in ratty looking furs and thin cloaks. Bags and other items littered the ground around their little fire.

"What do we do now?" he muttered.

"Well I'll be going out soon to scout the area." Metere pointed off in the distance where derrick could see a group of mountains rising from the mist. "I should be back in a few hours with a better idea of where we should go."

"For now we will rest and gather whatever we can make useful. I fear that we will need to leave early tomorrow. I have little interest in waiting for those assholes to return."

The others nodded their agreement.

Derrick shook himself.

"I have zero interest in that group." He stated.

"Yes we will leave soon. For now green eyes come and sit by the fire. There will be time to find the truth of why you are here." Kaahira motioned for him to join them.

The fire's warmth was a welcome friend. In his panic he had forgotten how cold it was here and he had begun to shake from it.

The cat creature cuddled up close to his side and purred deeply.

"This one to does not like the cold either. Often times Kaahira likes to find a green eyed male to warm her bones." She purred and rubbed the crown of her head under his chin.

The dark elf burst into laughter at Derrick's deep blush and stiff spine.

"Relax Derrick she's just pulling on your leg a little."

Kaahira chuckled and moved to tend the fire; making sure to flick her tail in his face.

**This cannot be happening!**

* * *

><p>"The sun will be setting soon." Vaveero commented, scanning the horizon.<p>

The fourth woman still hadn't shown up and Metere had left several hours ago to find some high ground. Hopefully she would be able to tell them where they were and what the next course of action should be.

Over the course of the day Derrick had slowly come to terms with his situation. There was still a lot he didn't know and much he needed to learn. But hours ago he had accepted that, for the time being, this was what it was and he needed to survive. He could hash out the rest when they were somewhere safer.

Dream or coma or whatever was going on could be sorted out later. So he busied himself. The females had sorted through the "acquired" stuff they had taken from the camp and found him some clothes.

He now sported brown wool pants that itched something fierce and a dirty green cotton shirt. To stay warm he had also donned a fur coat and leggings and a pair of thick leather knee high boots. His mismatched gloves kept his fingers from freezing. The whole getup stank and itched but anything was better than freezing to death in this unforgiving place.

After awhile of watching the others work to make the camp a little more livable for the night, Derrick began to feel useless.

"Is there something I can do to help." He asked Kaahira.

She had been dragging fire wood in to the clearing to dry while the Dunmer rifled through the bags and sacks. It appeared she was inventorying everything on a scrap of paper and a bit of charcoal from the fire.

"This one is sweet." She handed him a rusty dagger and cocked an eyebrow his direction.

"If you feel safe to do so; green eyes can return to the bandit camp and see if there is anything else he may find. Kaahira fears we will have a long journey to safety and we will need much to survive."

Derrick swallowed loudly and too the dagger in his shaky hands.

"For protection yes?" She nodded to the rusty piece of metal in his hands.

"Yeah… Sure I'll go see what there is."

He made his way out of the clearing and started towards the slave merchant's camp. As he got closer to the nightmare form the previous night he could feel his heart begin to pound. His breath started to come in great gouts of steam in the frigid air.

**You'll be fine. There isn't anyone there remember. Get it together Derrick!**

He pushed through the thick underbrush and found himself in the middle of the tents. He froze in fear and listened for any movement. Only the sound of his breathing and the soft wind answered him.

Shaking himself he began to wonder around the camp nosing through the various bags and crates he found throughout the area. It seemed that they had already picked it over fairly well as he found very little except some pots and an iron skillet.

Finally he made his way into the back of one of the wagons. Jackpot! It didn't appear that the girls had bothered to look through any of the contents. Amongst the piles of random stuff he found several decent looking swords and a few bundles of arrows; there was even a bow. Hidden deep in under a pile of clothes he found the best part several crude looking lockboxes. He gathered all of his treasures and sorted through them in the relative warmth of the covered wagon. The medieval weaponry looked like it should have been in some museum somewhere; not bundled in his arms. He was shocked at everything he needed to learn about this place.

Sweat had begun to drip down his face from his labors but finally he had consolidated a variety of cook ware and food stuffs including flour and honey, dried meat and even two whole wheels of cheese!

"Who the hell travels with a wheel of cheese?" he asked no one.

There were some quilts and more clothing items. He used them to wrap the swords and arrows and stuffed it all into an empty rucksack. With six satchels slung over his shoulders, four burlap sacks and a few backpack looking bags all of which were stuffed full of anything he thought looked useful ; Derrick prepared to labor his way back to camp.

* * *

><p>When he peeked out from the security of the wagon he realized it was getting dark.<p>

"Better get back before Kaahira misses me." He chuckled to himself.

In the approaching glum he made his way towards his companions' camp. As he was beginning to plow through the deep snow a sound caught his attention. At first it was so quiet he thought perhaps it was just snow falling. But as he started to move again he heard it; a wet snuffling and growls.

He could feel his pulse begin to race and wondered what sort of creatures inhabited these woods. He needed to get back to camp but in the same breath he knew that he couldn't leave a potential threat undiscovered.

With a resigned sigh he dropped everything in a tidy pile and grabbed one of the blades. It felt strange and heavy in his hands. This was no garden tool or fancy replica. This thing took lives; its entire purpose for existing was to cut through flesh and bone.

This was a tool for death.

Griping the hilt in both hands to keep from shaking he made his way slowly towards the source of the noise.

For several yards he began to believe he had imagined it all. Just as he was about to give up he heard the noises again; they were just beyond a cluster of rock to his left.

His mouth dried when he recognized the large flat stones. He knew this place and suddenly had little interest in exploring the origin of said noises.

He turned slowly and began to make his way back to his parcels. He would inform the group that there was a possible threat; but he was not crazy enough to try and take it on alone.

A loud grunt made him freeze in his tracks.

Whatever lurked behind the rocks knew he was there!

Turning he could barely make out a pair of shapes standing on the boulder. Their eyes glowed eerily in the reigning gloom.

Wolves.

Black and shaggy the two predators dropped easily into the snow and cautiously made their way toward him. One moved left, the other right. The prospect of a fresh meal too enticing to leave behind.

"Fuck me running with a spoon." He growled to himself.

He brought the sword up and griped it so tight his fingers burned. He tried to make himself look as large and imposing as he could, hoping that they would change their minds.

"Fuck off you two. I don't know shit about using this…but I do know that end is pointy and sharp." He couldn't believe that he was trying to verbally intimidate wolves!

The one on his left made the first move. With a snarl it lunged at his arm trying to get a grip and shake his weapon loose. Derrick yelled and swung with all of his strength; causing terrible damage to the innocent tree. The blade bounced back and jarred his hands so badly he nearly lost the sword.

The wolf backed up and moved to get a different angle. Soon he would have one on either side and be unable to watch them.

**Now might be a good time to scream for help you idiot!**

His mind raced miles a minute and he couldn't seem to get enough breathe to call out; help was only yards away and he couldn't do anything.

The wolf tried a new tactic and went for his leg. It caught a mouth full of his boot and dragged him to the ground. Derrick lashed out again as he fell and managed to catch the muzzle with the flat of the blade.

The creature yelped in surprise and jumped back; allowing Derrick to scramble to his feet again. Only to be knocked on his face bay the second wolf.

They were toying with him; trying to wear him out. Fear began to make way for anger.

"Enough of this shit!" he yelled his voice bounced into the night.

With a sad attempt to regain his footing he lunged forward, his blade pushed ahead of him. The steel met resistance for a fraction of a second and then sank into something dense. A blood curdling howl ripped through the air and the sword was snatched from his hand.

At some moment that he couldn't remember he had shut his eyes.

He opened them to find the wolf lying on its side and the snow darkening with its blood. Now he had no weapon and he couldn't see where the other had gone.

A growl behind him gave an answer and then a loud yelp. He flipped to his back to face his death only to find the second wolf lying on its back with a shaft of wood sprouting from it.

Crunching footsteps told him help had arrived and he lay on his back breathing like he was in labor.

"That was the worst fucking sword work I have ever seen." A thick gravelly voice barked from the dark. "Even for a Nord."

This must be the other member of the group.

"Get off of your back; you look like a new whore hoping for a job." The stranger growled.

**This lady is a bitch!**

"I need to get my stuff." He answered.

"Well go get it. I ain't going to slep your shit for you!" she snarled her footsteps crunching away into the dark.

* * *

><p>It took him almost an hour to find the gear in the dark. Exhausted he finally stumbled back into the relative safety of the camp. The group of women sat around the fire waiting.<p>

"You okay Derrick?" Metere asked.

He nodded and glared at the back of the newcomer, who had begun cleaning a small doe off to the side of the camp.

"Yeah just some trouble with the local wildlife." He answered.

The stranger snorted from her place outside of camp.

"Find anything good?" Vaveero asked

"Yeah a lot of stuff….I think… at least I hope it is useful." He responded sheepishly.

"Well let's take a peek."

The rest of the night was spent going through the gear and discarding what they couldn't bring. Derrick received considerable praise for his salvaging skills. They packed it all in the rucksacks and shoulder bags. As they settled around the fire for a meal Derrick finally asked Metere what she had seen on her trip.

She settled back against a log and chewed for a moment.

Takings a drink of water she looked back towards the mountains.

"From what I can see we are indeed in the western pale. If we head east we should stumble across the road. From there we can either go south to Whiterun or north to Dawnstar." She looked at the group expectantly.

"I don't like the idea of going north. We stand to get tracked or worse run into stormcloaks and the last time I checked they were not terribly friendly to elves." Vaveero added.

"That was my thinking as well." The nord answered. She glanced over to the unnamed member of the group. "What do you think Orsimer?"

Derrick stirred himself in hopes of finally meeting the woman. If what everyone said was accurate than this was the one he had saved from the bandit.

The women grunted and stood from her place in the shadows. After a moment of hesitation she approached the light of the fire and dropped into a squat near the flames.

Derrick simply stared at the creature before him. She had to be one of the biggest females he had ever seen. Broad in the shoulders and as tall as Metere, though just like the rest of the group she was thin and boney from their obvious mistreatment.

But her most arresting features were her skin, which was a dark fern green, and the bony "tusks" protruding from her lower jaw. Her ears, like the dark elf, were long and pointed. She dressed herself strangely for the cold weather. Wearing only fur leggings and a wide band of leather to bind her chest; leather boots that went to her hips protected her feet from the frigid slush.

She glared at him until he dropped is eyes to the ground near the firepit.

With another grunt she looked back to the group.

"Road is a crap idea." She growled. "Leaves us exposed. Stick to the foothills near the mountains and we'll come up north of Whiterun."

The group seemed to relax in unison.

"So you mean to stay with us?" Vaveero asked.

The creature shrugged. "For now… At least until we are clear of this shit heap."

Metere cleared her throat and leaned forward. "Well why we are at it; let's clear the mammoth from the room. Obviously we have all been through the grind. But I'm sure you all have family or homes somewhere. No one is obligated to stay on this trip. I have some friends in Whiterun, two brothers, which would probably help. At least get us a bath and a hot meal."

The group waited silently for anyone to speak up.

"Okay then. We will set out before sunrise. It'll be a rough journey; if we are as far into The Pale as I think we are. I'll take first watch." Metere concluded.

Derrick looked around and shrugged. "I'll take second then."

The Nord smiled at his desire to help.

"Good."

* * *

><p>Derrick tossed and turned in his furs. He knew that he needed to rest but his thoughts kept racing at light speed. So it was no surprise that when he had finally settled into a light doze that he felt Metere nudge him.<p>

"Time for your watch green eyes." She smirked at his new nickname.

Derrick sighed and sat up in the tangle of bedding. He yawned and nodded. As if he were marching to his execution he trudged to the fire and sat facing the opening into their camp. After a bit he noticed that the Nord hadn't lain down to sleep yet.

She smiled gently. "It takes me awhile to settle these days."

Derrick nodded. "I can imagine. This world seems to be…..stressful." he put it as mildly as he could.

Metere chuckled and leaned back on her elbows, a thoughtful expression on her shadowed face.

"It wasn't always like this; I mean sure Skyrim is a tough place. But it was the kind of rough that you survived and became stronger and wiser. Now with all of this war nonsense and the crisis a few years back. Now; now it's just not what I grew up loving."

"Well it seems your world and mine have a lot in common in that sense. Life had a different meaning when I was a kid. I was ready to go and conquer the world. Then I grew up and found myself alone and with nothing. Just struggling to stay afloat really."

She smiled and nodded. "Then perhaps you belong here with us more than you think; good night Derrick keep a sharp eye out." With that the woman laid back and settled in for some rest.

Derrick found a comfortable spot and scanned the forest around them. It didn't take long to notice a figure sitting off in the shadows. The Orsimer's eyes sparkled in the fire light, never blinking. Her intense gaze never left him throughout the entire night.

**Tomorrow begins the grand adventure I guess. And maybe I'll figure out what the hell all of this means.**

The cold night of a strange land wore on.

**AN: **Well this chapter was much longer than I thought it would be. I hope not needlessly so. A few notes. In my fics things like time and distance are much more realistic. I understand that in the game if it were realtime it would take years to complete. But in the my story Skyrim is huge. You will also notice later that wounds and getting injured doesen't just mean you get someone with glowy hands to fix you...everything has a cost. I hope you enjoy.


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